


Don't Breathe Too Deep

by friskynotebook



Series: Plausible Verse [3]
Category: Star Wars RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, But lots of comfort too, Carrie gets taken care of, F/M, Miscarriage, So much angst, pregnancy loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 11:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9121705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friskynotebook/pseuds/friskynotebook
Summary: Carrie has a miscarriage, and nothing stops Harrison from being at her side.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Dee’s (aka: @thecarrisonfiles) birthday!
> 
> Carrie has said in interviews that she had a miscarriage during her marriage to Paul Simon. I’ve wanted to write a miscarriage fic for a little while, but the real-life element of it piqued my interest, and my angst-loving mind started crafting a Carrison stoy around it. I hope this lived up to my own expectations, and I hope I did them justice.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: PREGNANCY LOSS AND MISCARRIAGE. While the focus of this piece is on the emotional trauma of a pregnancy loss, there are descriptions of the physical side effects. And there are a lot of general feelings surrounding the trauma, which could be triggering to some. Reader discretion is advised.
> 
> The title for this fic comes from "What You Own," from the musical Rent. You can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xiakiJaY8ME.
> 
> After the news about Carrie and Debbie, I'm reposting all my Carrison works here and will continue posting updates in the future. The plausible verse will continue with both Debbie and Carrie alive and well.
> 
> Special thanks to @oparu for her support and general hand-holding, @hewouldve for cheering me on and doing a slamming beta job, and the homies at the Han/Leia Slack group chat for being amazing.
> 
> With that, on with the show!

Carrie woke up slowly, her eyes taking a while to focus on her surroundings. She groaned, turning onto her side on the couch and pulling the blanket closer to her neck. She blinked a few times, the heaviness in her head still not clearing.

She squinted at the pill bottle on the coffee table and reached for it. _Valium. That would explain it_. She set it back on the table and rolled onto her back, groaning and rubbing her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, hoping that would clear some of the fog.

Her body was completely sore. Her breasts ached and felt like they were … leaking? _But how …_ And her abdomen cramped, beating a slow, steady, dull throb that didn’t want to stop. _What the hell happened?_

Almost as if her brain was answering her question, the memories of the past few days came flooding back into Carrie’s mind, filling her with a deep, burning pain more intense than any ache in her body. _The baby was gone_.

Carrie curled into a ball and wept hot, angry tears. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying in vain to protect the child that was no longer there. The pain that was only a dull ache before seemed to intensify, reminding her of the trauma from only three days ago.

Before she could lose herself further in the pain, the phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. Carrie shouldn’t have been surprised, not really. The phone hadn’t stopped ringing since Paul dropped her off from the hospital. Until yesterday, her mother ran interference with all the well-meaning relatives and friends who looked in on her, but since she effectively kicked her mother out, she’s just been letting the phone ring. But some little voice in the back of her mind told her to answer it this time.

Against her better judgment, she sniffled, wiped her eyes with her fingers, and answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Carrie.” Harrison’s tender voice filled the crackly phone line, and her eyes stung with tears threatening to spill over.

“Harrison,” she breathed out, not trusting her voice to say anything else.

Carrie could hear Harrison running his hand over his face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call sooner. The shooting schedule’s been crazy and whenever I could call, it was too early or too late and …” He trailed off.

She swallowed and tried to keep the waver out of her voice. “Don’t worry about it. Really.” _It only matters that you’re calling now_. She paused. “What time is it there? In Philadelphia?”

“About ten at night,” he replied.

Carrie’s hand flew to her mouth of its own accord. “Shouldn’t you be resting? You’re probably doing so many stunts—I mean, you’re playing a cop—but you’re calling me—” She started to cry, powerless to stop the hormones still raging through her body.

Harrison quickly reassured her. “Hey, hey. It’s alright. There’s not much happening tomorrow anyways.” She could practically hear him wink through the phone, and she smiled despite her sadness.

“How are you?” he asked softly.

“Oh, I’m okay—” She cut herself off. She could never lie to him. “I don’t know, Harrison. I haven’t stopped crying since I … got back from the hospital.” She took a second to compose herself. “You know, just when I think I’m starting to feel fine again, I remember and it hurts so much.” Her voice started to waver, but she was determined not to cry again.

“Carrie …” His voice was so soft and so gentle, and Carrie could feel the tears coming back. She sobbed into the phone, covering her mouth with her hand, while Harrison whispered to her over the phone. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here, I’m here.”

She wrapped an arm around herself as she cried, trying to soothe herself. For the first time since the miscarriage, she cried body-wracking sobs for the child she lost and the pain she thought would never end.

After a while, her tears finally dried and her sobs turned into gasps. Her head ached from crying and her nose was running, mixing with the tears staining her face. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said, his deep voice soothing her.

They sat in a comfortable silence. Carrie snuggled deeper into the couch, cradling the phone as if it was Harrison himself.

She could hear him swallow. “How’s Paul handling it?”

Carrie sighed. “He seems to be doing okay. I haven’t heard from him in a few days.”

Harrison paused. “You haven’t heard from him?”

“No, he’s recording some songs in New York for the next week.”

“He’s not with you? You’re alone?” She could hear him curse in the background.

She sniffed. “Harrison, it’s fine. I’m doing okay here.”

He wasn’t deterred. “But is anyone else there with you? What about your mother?”

“She’s been really sweet, but it’s just … too much.” She paused. “She wanted to stay with me when it happened, but she kept saying things like, ‘the child could have had Paul’s eyes, and I think yours are so much nicer.’ I just couldn’t handle that.” She took a shaky breath. “I can’t bear to think about what the baby could have been.”

He didn’t say anything. Carrie could hear him taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “I’m so sorry, honey. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“It’s alright. I’ll be okay,” she replied, more to reassure him than anything else.

Harrison sighed. “I really should go now, Carrie.” His voice was laced with guilt and regret.

She swallowed down her pain at him leaving her, however irrational the feeling was. “Of course you should. You really need your rest.”

“You do, too,” he added softly. “Promise me you’ll rest?”

Carrie nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “I will.”

He seemed to accept this. “Okay then. Take care of yourself, Carrie.”

She blinked back more tears. “Bye,” she choked out, hanging up the phone. She curled into a ball on the couch and hugged the pillow. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to forget about her pain, even just for a little while.

______________________________________________________________________

It was three days later, and things hadn’t really changed.

Carrie was in her bed this time, but she still needed the Valium to have any kind of sleep. She stretched, wincing as her aching abdomen and breasts protest. She placed a hand over her breasts and isn’t surprised to feel her sticky milk still leaking out of them.

Her stomach had stopped cramping, but it was still sore with a dull, constant throb. _A reminder I definitely do not need._ The blood that seemed to be pouring out of her vagina hadn’t stopped, even if it had slowed in recent days.

She sighed and slowly stood up, picking up the dirty plate resting on her bedside table. It was probably best if she moved around a little. _That’s progress, right?_

She walked the plate to the kitchen and added it to the growing pile of dirty dishes in her sink. Rubbing her nose, she reached for a glass and poured some water, pausing to take a deep breath. _You’re doing well—keep going_. She was about to go to the living room and sit on the couch when the doorbell rang.

Carrie’s heart raced, panic filling her body. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she hadn’t showered since he had called her, still wearing the same pajamas from that day. The last thing she wanted to do was greet visitors.

She slowly crept to the door, hanging to the side so whoever was on the other side couldn’t see her.

“Carrie, sweetheart, it’s me,” a familiar voice called to her from the outside. Her heartbeat quickened for an entirely different reason than before. She stepped closer to the door and opened it just enough to poke her head through the opening.

Harrison looked down at her and gave her his signature lopsided smile, his eyes filled with care and concern for her. His brow furrowed as he took in her appearance—dull eyes, greasy hair, pale complexion.

Carrie stood at the door for a full minute, shocked at his presence on her doorstep. _Why was he here?_

He leaned against the doorframe. “Can I come in?”

“Oh! Yeah, of course,” she replied. She hid behind the door as she let him in, locking it as soon as he entered the house. She pressed her face against the door, composing herself before turning to face him.

Carrie kept her eyes glued to her feet. “You really didn’t have to come. Did you fly here from Philadelphia?” She glanced upwards and chanced a look at his face. His eyes are soft and warm as he gazed at her.

“I wanted to be here, Carrie.”

She looked down again, unable to look at him without crying, and she’d be damned if she cried in front of him again.

“Can I get you something?” she asked. “Water? Coffee?” Her voice broke on the last word.

Harrison placed a long finger on her chin and forced her to look at him. “Carrie …”

She wasn’t sure if it was the tone of his voice or the way he said her name, but regardless, she broke down crying, collapsing into his chest. Her violent sobs wracked her body, causing him to shake with her.

Harrison wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, pressing her as close to his body as he could. She clung to him and buried her face deep in his chest as he stroked her hair. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t have to. Despite her tears, his touch soothed her in ways words could not.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, but eventually her tears dried. She sniffled and rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

Harrison kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering. “Come on, darling. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He straightened and took her hand, gently leading her to her bathroom.

“Why don’t you get in the shower and I’ll grab another set of pajamas for you?” he said to her.

Carrie nodded, watching him as he left. She took off her shirt and was about to remover her pants when she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her breasts were so large and painful, still expecting to prepare for a child that will never come. Her stomach was slightly swollen, almost as if her baby was still present. She was only two months pregnant when … it happened, but the changes to her body were prominent. Suddenly, she remembered why she had been avoiding the shower.

Harrison opened the bathroom door. “Sorry that took a while. I had a hard time finding your pajama drawer—” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw her staring at herself. She turned to him with tears in her eyes, unable to say anything.

He swallowed, blinking back his own tears. “Come here,” he said softly. He carefully removed her pants and underwear, gasping when he saw the blood in her underwear.

“I haven’t stopped bleeding,” she said, her voice hoarse. He looked up at her. “Not since it happened.”

He stood and kissed her forehead. Carrie closed her eyes, feeling his slight stubble against her skin. He stepped to the shower and turned on the water, removing his clothes afterwards. He took her hand and led her into the shower, standing her under the spray and closing the curtain. He stood behind her and made sure she was getting wet under the shower head. She took a deep breath and focused on the warm water on her skin.

Carrie reached for the shampoo, but stopped. The thought of touching herself—any part of herself—turned her stomach, knowing what her body was now capable of. She swallowed down the bile creeping up her throat.

Harrison took the shampoo bottle from her, poured some in his hand, and washed her hair. Carrie closed her eyes and focused on his strong hands massaging her scalp. He gently turned her around and rinsed the product from her hair. He repeated the process with conditioner, and she still didn’t respond.

He moved on to body wash. The vanilla scent filled the steamed air and Carrie furrowed her brow. Harrison squeezed some into his hand and paused.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly.

She looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed out.

He tenderly rubbed the body wash into her skin, starting from her shoulders and working his way down her body. She focused on her breathing, trying to keep herself calm as he lathered the product on. When he got to her breasts, she gasped.

He stopped and looked at her, worry clear in his eyes. She shook her head.

“I’m okay,” she reassured him.

He nodded and continued, kneeling down and gently placing his hands on her stomach. She whimpered at his touch. He looked up, meeting her eyes and not breaking eye contact as he gently massaged the body wash on her skin. Her eyes teared up, but she didn’t ask him to stop. Instead, she placed a hand in his wet hair, needing to feel more of his presence. He finally looked away and pressed a kiss to her stomach.

He washed the rest of her body, taking extra care with her vagina, knowing how sensitive and irritated it probably was. It still stung, but pain was bearable with his gentle hands touching her with such care. Standing up, he rinsed her off and turned off the tap. He opened the curtain and stepped out, grabbing Carrie’s towel and leading her onto the bathmat.

Harrison wrapped the towel around her and dried her off. “Are you okay to get dressed?” he asked.

She nodded and gave him a small smile. He grinned back.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he said, leaving her, presumably to dry himself and get dressed.

Carrie got dressed, smiling to herself as she noticed Harrison’s choice of pajamas. He picked out a pair of purple sleep pants and a black t-shirt with a beagle on it, knowing that seeing a dog would make her smile, however brief.

Harrison knocked on the door. “You decent?” he called.

“Yeah,” she croaked out.

He opened the door and smiled at her. “You should lie down,” he said, taking her arm and leading her to her bed. He’d already turned down the covers and fluffed the pillows, making her smile.

She crawled into the soft cotton sheets and Harrison tucked her in, bringing the blankets up to her chin. She pressed her face into the pillow and breathed in the fresh scent of her detergent.

Harrison kissed her forehead and smoothed back her damp hair. “Sleep well, love.”

Carrie frowned. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to make some tea—I’ll be back soon. But you should try and rest.”

She looked at him warily, making him chuckle.

“I’m coming back, honey. Don’t worry.”

Carrie closed her eyes, reassured. She fell asleep with the faintest hint of a smile on her face.

______________________________________________________________________

A scream tore from Carrie’s throat, waking her from her nightmare. She clutched her chest and panted, her eyes roaming around the room.

Harrison’s footsteps pounded through the hallway, growing louder until he burst into her room, dishtowel in hand.

“Carrie! Carrie!” he cried out. He rushed to the side of her bed, dropping the dishtowel on the comforter and stroking her thigh.

“Where is it?! Have you seen it? I need to find it!” she shouted, frantically searching her bedding.

Harrison grabbed her arms. “What, sweetheart? What are you looking for?”

Carrie looked at him, tears streaming down her face and eyes wide. “The baby!”

His eyes filled with pain and his breath caught in his throat. He cupped her cheek and wiped her tears with his thumb. “Honey …”

Her face crumpled as she realized she was still dreaming. She covered her mouth with her hand and started to sob. Harrison pulled her to his chest and held her tight against him, stroking every part of her he could reach.

“Ssh, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here, it’s alright,” he murmured to her, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

In her grief and sobs, Carrie could barely make out the wetness forming at the top of her head, mixing with Harrison’s kisses. She wrapped her arms around his chest and squeezed her eyes shut, letting her tears soak through his shirt.

When her cries died down, she pulled him onto the bed, not letting his larger size deter her.

“What are you doing, love?” he whispered.

“Stay,” she murmured, pulling the covers around him. “No nightmares.”

“Carrie …” he half-heartedly protested. But it was in vain—his arms were already around her and her head rested against his chest.

“Please,” she whispered, already falling asleep.

Harrison kissed the top of her head. “Sleep, sweetheart.”

______________________________________________________________________

The next time Carrie woke up, the sun had started to fade, darkening the room. She was less groggy than before, and her head didn’t ache. _Guess I didn’t need the Valium this time_.

Her brain came into focus faster than it did earlier. She turned her head and pressed her face into her pillow, wondering where the faint thumping was coming from. She frowned as she realized her pillow was much more firm than she remembered it being.

Carrie moved her head up and saw Harrison smiling down at her.

“Morning, darling,” he drawled. “Sleep well?”

She snuggled deeper into his side and nodded against him.

“No nightmares?” he asked.

Carrie sighed. “No nightmares.”

“Good.”

They rested in comfortable silence, listening to the sound of the other person breathing, until Carrie cleared her throat.

“Harrison?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you get here?”

He smirked. “A plane, dear.”

She playfully whacked his chest. “I’m serious.”

Harrison stroked her arm. “Would it surprise you if I told you George had everything to do with it?”

Carrie raised her eyebrow.

“He pulled some strings to get me some time off … And he booked me on the next flight out of the city.”

She let out a breath, impressed. “I guess I have a reason to like him now.”

“You know, he really isn’t so bad,” Harrison muttered into her hair.

Carrie gave a noncommittal grunt, but didn’t say anything else.

She held him a little tighter as the dark thoughts seeped back into her mind. Despite everything she knew to be true, she couldn’t help but think there was something she could have done. She was supposed to care for this child, protect it from everything. Her body was supposed to be the safest place. How could it betray her like it had?

Harrison seemed to sense the change in mood, stroking her back and waiting for her to speak.

“Is it my fault?” she asked in a small voice.

“No,” he replied, the firmness in his tone surprising her. She looked up at him, her brown eyes wide.

He swallowed. “Carrie, there is absolutely nothing you could have done to prevent this,” he said. “This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

She buried her face in his chest, trying to stop herself from crying.

“Let it out, darling. Let it all out, I’m right here,” he murmured, resting his cheek against her hair and pulling her closer.

Carrie sniffled. “It’s just—Paul, when he dropped me off—” Harrison’s hold tightened ever so slightly. “He said—he said, ‘you know, I’m kind of glad it happened. Imagine you and me having a kid. That would have been a mistake.’” The rest of her sentence was cut off by her sobs.

Harrison stroked her hair. “Sweetheart …” he choked out.

Something in his tone made Carrie look up at him. His jaw clenched and his own tears rolled down his cheeks, his eyes a mixture of tenderness and anger.

She continued. “But the thing is, it wouldn’t have been a mistake.” She swallowed. “It might have been crazy, but I really wanted the baby.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I know, Carrie, I know,” he said softly, his own voice breaking.

She let out a shuddering breath. “But I couldn’t tell him that, because he was so relieved.” She sniffled. “Like, his life was going to be back on track because a baby wouldn’t be around. I mean, he already has a son—he didn’t need a baby. I didn’t want him to be upset.” She broke down in tears, clinging to Harrison’s chest.

He pulled her in as close as he could, whispering comforting phrases into her hair. “It’s not your fault, it’s okay. I’m right here—you’re not alone. You’re never alone when I’m around, sweetheart.”

Her brain barely registered what he was saying, only that the deep hum of his voice soothed her mind like a salve on a burn. The tears hurt, almost more than she could bear, but his presence alone made her pain just a little bit easier to handle.

Carrie’s tears eventually turned into gasps and sniffles, and she turned her head to rest her cheek on his chest. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being here,” she replied, closing her eyes, swollen from crying.

Harrison’s breath was a little more shaky. “Of course, honey.”

Carrie didn’t say anything for a moment, choosing to enjoy the sound of his heartbeat.

“Don’t leave me,” she finally said in a small voice.

He swallowed. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”


End file.
